


Red & Blue

by Lady_Blade_WarAngel



Series: SPYWARE [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, F/M, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blade_WarAngel/pseuds/Lady_Blade_WarAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne the Blue was only supposed to be taking down one group. She'd done it before. This time she get's caught. While her partner, Red Jaime, and her organisation, Winterfell, try to locate her after they lose contact, Brienne knows she can't talk. She won't betray her comrades.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red & Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I don't know where this came from. It's a bit crazy and mental and I haven't written anything REALLY dark for ages. Apparently I've been told by many that it's my forte. So I hope you enjoy it no matter how dark and evil it is.

Red & Blue.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

She knew. She knew this was the end for her. She knew from the moment she was captured that this was the end. No one was going to come for her. No one would know where she was. She didn’t even have Jaime by her side this time. She was alone.

“Brienne The Blue they call you.” She looked at the man stood over her. It had always seemed impossible before, but this man was taller than her. The Mountain, Gregor Clegane, he had his own band of men and his own methods to make people talk. The Mountain’s Men were a terrorist organisation that Winterfell had been trying to take down for a while. When an opportunity had come along, Brienne had agreed to take the mission. She had agreed to go in alone, what with Jaime working as an undercover double agent in his own father’s corporation. He’d been due to come back in a week and she wouldn’t be waiting for him. She wouldn’t greet him or ask him how he was. She knew she would probably never see him again.

 _“I never thought I would miss that smirk of his. I’m sorry for not keeping my promise Jaime.”_ She thought to herself. Before he’d left, she’d promised they’d go and get a beer and sit and watch a crappy spy movie just to mock how unrealistic they were. But Brienne knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“What? Don’t you have anything to say? A Winterfell spy doesn’t often drop in my lap. You could at least be polite.” Gregor stated gruffly. Brienne remained silent. “You’ll talk Blue Brienne. They always talk. It might take hours, it might take days, the longest anyone has ever lasted under my interrogation is a week, and that was my brother. Burned half his face off for him too. How long do you think you will last girl?” Gregor asked. Brienne didn’t answer. “Well I guess we should get on with this then. What were you doing here?” Gregor asked her. Brienne remained silent. A sharp crack resounded through the stone room. Brienne felt Gregor’s mallet sized hand catch her cheek. She could taste blood in her mouth, her lip was now split, allowing the blood to leak down her chin in itching, agonisingly slow drops. “Who sent you here?” Gregor asked. Brienne remained silent. Another slap split her other lip. She did not cry out. She refused to let Gregor have the satisfaction.

 _“I won’t betray Winterfell. I won’t talk. I’m strong enough to endure whatever he dishes out.”_ Brienne thought to herself, as another resounding crack echoed in the warehouse and Brienne felt blood drip from her nose. She remained silent.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

“What the fuck are you doing about this?” Jaime Lannister yelled at his superior. Ned Stark looked at him with pity. “She’s my partner. Why the fuck would you send her alone to take down the Mountain’s Men?” Jaime asked angrily. His fists clenched at his sides.

“We sent her in alone because we didn’t have a choice Jaime. You were deep undercover in Casterly Rock and there was no one else to take the job. Brienne is a good agent, she’s been here longer than you and she’s never failed.” Ned said. Jaime shook his head angrily.

“You said you lost contact! She’s probably been captured! Have you even checked? Have you tried to find out?” Jaime roared, his clenched fists hitting Ned Stark’s polished wooden desk with ferocity and force. Ned looked half defeated himself. Jaime knew that a lot of people were fond of Brienne at Winterfell. Ned and his wife Catelyn were two of those people.

“We confirmed that she was captured a few days ago, but we’ve no idea where she’s been taken for interrogation, or how long she’s been gone for. But we estimate she’s been gone over a week, since we lost contact. We’re trying to find out where she is, but it takes time Jaime.” Ned said sadly.

“It’s time she doesn’t damn well have! This is Gregor Clegane we’re talking about! He’s a vicious fucking beast! He’ll savage her until she talks, if she talks, and then he’ll kill her when she’s no longer amusing to him! If he hasn’t fucking killed her already!” Jaime cursed angrily.

“I _know_ Jaime. We’re doing everything we can. We know they haven’t left Moscow. That’s all we know. We believe she’s still alive. No bodies have turned up. You know how Gregor Clegane disposes of spies. She’d have been found in pieces in the Moskva River by now.” Ned said. Jaime nodded and stalked over to Ned’s office door. “What are you doing Jaime?” Ned asked.

“Going to Moscow. What did you think I would do?” Jaime asked. Ned sighed.

“You take what Brynden says into account Jaime. He’s in command. Don’t act without orders.” Ned said firmly. Jaime shook his head angrily. He needed to get there. He needed to save her. He hoped there was something left to save.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

It had been ten days. On the first day, Brienne had been moved from the gaping emptiness of the warehouse, into a small room. Her arms chained to the ceiling. When she wasn’t being tortured for information, she stood constantly. But only barely. Her toes just touched the ground. She hung from the black chains, and hoped her arms would not break, or her shoulders would not dislocate in this position, although she could barely feel her arms at the moment. The way she was chained didn’t allow for good blood circulation. Brienne was a mess. Her nose was broken, she was sure of it. For the first three days she was beaten with Gregor’s bare hands. On the fourth day, he used a long tailed whip on her. Her shirt had been ripped off and she was left standing in her bra, chained to the ceiling as the blood had run from her back. She could still feel the blood crusted over her wounds as she shivered in the Russian cold. On the fifth day, he had gotten a thumbscrew and mangled her fingers. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to use them again. On the sixth day, she had had red hot bamboo splinters shoved under her fingernails. The burning pain of it was unlike any other pain she’d ever felt. That was until the seventh and eighth days when Gregor had used a red hot poker that he pressed on her bare skin. She knew that if she managed to survive she would be scarred for life, but that mattered very little to her at the moment in the grand scheme of things. She hadn’t spoken though. She wouldn’t give Gregor the satisfaction of getting her to speak. Yesterday Gregor had yanked off each of her fingernails with a pair of pliers. Her hands were a mess of blood, and she had screamed. But she didn’t answer a single question. She never spoke a single word. She was struggling to take in full breaths, because of agonising, sharp pain that lanced up and down her torso when she tried.

 _“My ribs are fractured... probably broken.”_ Brienne thought to herself. She was cataloguing her injuries in her mind and what could be medically done for her if she was ever recovered. This was a technique to keep her mind elsewhere, but it would not work forever.

That was when Gregor Clegane came back into her cell. She didn’t look at him, but through him. _“I won’t talk.”_ She thought to herself. He had one of his men bring him a chair. Another brought in a wooden crate. Brienne refused to look at the crate. She knew that was what he wanted her to do. He wanted her to be afraid of what was in there.

“Have anything to say blue?” Gregor asked coldly. Brienne looked to see him sat right in front of her. His face directly in her line of view. She spat a gob of blood straight in his face. Gregor stood up shaking with rage, punched Brienne full in the face, making her teeth rattle, and wiped the blood and saliva from his face. “You’re lucky, you little whore. You’re lucky that we need you to keep your tongue or I’d cut it out and feed it to you.” Gregor hissed. He opened the wooden crate and Brienne felt her eyes drawn to it as she saw Gregor take out knives of different types and sizes. Gregor pulled some sort of lever and the chains lowered from the ceiling, allowing Brienne to actually stand on her feet for the first time today. Brienne wanted to cry out as the blood started flowing back into her arms as they relaxed at her sides. Her hands were an aching, throbbing mess. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself making a sound as she wriggled her mangled fingers, trying to get the feeling back into her arms more quickly. The quicker the blood flow returned, the quicker she wouldn’t be feeling the tingling pain. She wasn’t standing for long. Gregor forced her into the chair he’d been sat in. Brienne wasn’t strong enough to stop him. She was weak from hunger and thirst. They allowed her a cup of water a day and she was to drink it while they watched. A nasty old man called Qyburn usually placed a straw in her mouth and she was to drink the water. Then he would leave. Brienne knew that sooner or later she would go mad with thirst, but she had outlasted Gregor Clegane’s brother. It seemed he didn’t want to burn her face, for whatever reason. Brienne cringed as her body touched the chair. It was a simple wooden, slatted chair. It had arms with straps. Brienne hadn’t noticed that before, but she was all too aware of it now as her wrists were strapped down and she tried to kick out as he secured her ankles to straps on the front legs of the chair, but she wasn’t strong enough. Then he pushed her head right back and Brienne felt a strap tightened around her neck. It wasn’t strangling her, but it was close enough to that point that Brienne wondered what he planned to do to her now.

 _“I need my strength to endure whatever he has in store for me next.”_ She thought to herself. Gregor looked at Brienne.

“Sure you don’t want to speak Blue? My man Ramsay, he’s got some nasty plans for you. You’d save yourself some pain if you just answered my questions.” Gregor stated. Brienne made herself go somewhere inside her mind. She would not betray her friends and comrades. She had more integrity than that. Pain would never make her talk. Gregor merely laughed. “Ramsay, get in here! I have a new toy for you to play with!” Gregor called. Brienne wasn’t looking at anything. She felt her chin lifted from where it rested against her chest. She looked into a pair of cold, dead, grey eyes.

 _“He has evil eyes.”_ Brienne thought to herself.

“We’re going to have so much fun Blue Brienne.” Ramsay said. Brienne felt a shiver of dread run through her body.

“Remember what I said boy! Pick a nice spot and get to work! We want to send the Winterfell operatives something to remember her by. Don’t take off any of her fingers and don’t touch her tongue or her teeth. When we’re done with her, we want Winterfell to identify her. We want them to know who she is so they know not to mess with us. Give her something new to think about hmn?” Gregor stated. Then Brienne heard his footfalls as he left the room. Brienne saw Ramsay pick up one of the knives. It was curved and smaller than Brienne would have thought.

“Gregor has ordered me to get a nice souvenir for your friends at Winterfell. It seems they just don’t care what happens to you, and that’s no fun. If Gregor gets fed up with you, you’ll be dead. So we’re going to send them something to remember you by.” Ramsay said. His voice seemed filled with glee, and Brienne slammed her eyes closed as Ramsay grabbed hold of her jaw, and pushed the right side of her face against the back of the chair. Brienne could feel the old wood scratching at her skin. “Open your eyes bitch or I’ll take them out. That’s a guarantee.” Ramsay hissed. Brienne opened her eyes, and saw Ramsay grinning madly as the knife descended upon her cheek. She felt the burning sensation of the first incision. Then Brienne went numb as she felt blood gushing down her face, then down her neck and pooling between her breasts, soaking her bra with blood. She watched as Ramsay carved off half the skin of her cheek as though she were a Christmas turkey, and then she lost consciousness, allowing herself to surrender to complete blackness.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

When Jaime arrived in Moscow, Brienne had been missing for twelve days. He arrived for a debriefing with Brynden the Blackfish’s team and when it was finishing there was a knock at the door. Brynden held up a hand, pulling out his own gun and Jaime had a hand on the handle of his gun too, as Brynden opened the door to a boy. The boy did not speak, merely handed a package and an envelope to Brynden before running away. Brynden looked at the group.

“The little shit probably works for Clegane and we can’t trust that it’s not a bomb.” Brynden stated. Jaime shook his head. Then he noticed the stain. A reddish stain, marred the brown cardboard of the small box.

“Look at that sir.” Jaime said softly. Brynden looked at the blood stain. He inclined his head at a younger boy, Podrick Payne.

“Well... it’s not a bomb then. Clegane isn’t one for disguising anything. He’s mad as fuck, but he thinks he’s untouchable for it. Pod, come and look at this. I think this will be your department, what with you being a forensic anthropologist.” Brynden stated. Pod nodded and put on evidence gloves before opening the box. The look on Pod’s face gave Jaime a horrible kind of fear.

“It’s... I think it’s a piece of Miss Tarth’s cheek.” Pod said, his voice muted in horror. Brynden looked inside the box and his stone cold exterior seemed to slip, just slightly. He opened the envelope and read the note aloud.

_Blackfish,_

_We thought you might want something to remember Blue by. There isn’t much left of her, just a broken body. It’s a shame you teach them to be so loyal. Come and get her if you can._

_The Mountain’s Men._

Jaime took a deep breath as he barged his way through the rest of the team and looked inside the box himself. He felt sick at the sight. It was indeed a piece of Brienne’s cheek, a piece of the skin from her cheek at any rate. Jaime recognised each freckle, and a small scar that she had received on another mission. It hadn’t even needed stitches. Jaime found himself fleeing to a bathroom to rid his stomach of all it’s contents.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Days blurred together under Ramsay’s torture. Brienne almost wished Gregor was torturing her. At least he was just a brute. He didn’t have much imagination. Ramsay seemed born to torture people. She was no longer sure of how long she had been there. Sometimes she would fall asleep only to be woken up by a bucket of ice water being thrown over her body. The cold was getting to her. Brienne coughed frequently now. She no longer cared if she died, if only the pain would end. She was chained up again. She looked at the floor to see the stains of her own blood everywhere. It wasn’t all fresh. Mostly it was old stains that no one had cleaned, but Brienne no longer cared. She heard sounds. The sounds of gunfire and screaming. The sounds of men dying. She didn’t care.

 _“It’s probably Ramsay and Gregor torturing some other poor bastard.”_ Brienne thought. This went on for a while. Brienne didn’t know how long, until suddenly her cell door was open and she heard footsteps run to her side. The footsteps were almost familiar.

“Brienne? Brienne? Please talk to me! Say something! Anything! Brienne, don’t be fucking dead! Don’t you dare be fucking dead!” Brienne found the strength to look at the owner of the voice. It was a voice she recognised, that she knew well, but she didn’t want to believe that it was him, because she couldn’t bear it if she was wrong.

“Jaime?” She asked weakly as she looked at those familiar green eyes.

“Brienne! Thank fucking God! You’re gonna be alright Brienne. You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you.” He said gently. Brienne shook her head weakly.

“You’re not real. I’m dreaming. I didn’t know I could dream here. It’s been so long. Why can’t they just kill me already? Aren’t they bored yet?” Brienne uttered. Jaime looked horrified at Brienne’s words.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

When they finally found the warehouse where Brienne was being kept, Jaime pleaded with the Blackfish to let him search the cells.

“If she’s in as bad a state as we think she’ll need a familiar face. She doesn’t know any of your men except for Pod and yourself sir. Pod obviously isn’t going in with us, and you’ll be giving orders.” Jaime said. Her argued the case firmly and the Blackfish, as stubborn as he was, was also logical and so Jaime was staying out of the action. He was to sneak past the fighting and search for Brienne as quickly and efficiently as possible. So when they had pulled up all around the warehouse, which had an underground cellar, Jaime had been the last to get out of the vans. The Blackfish had led the charge and while men were fighting and firing and dying around him, Jaime was getting past and finding his way into the underground cellar where they kept prisoners. It took what felt like forever until Jaime finally found a cell that was occupied. The first was occupied by a very young looking girl, a teenager with brown hair and broken teeth, who shrank back into the wall. She wore no clothes and her teeth chattered and her eyes were wild with fear. Jaime knew he couldn’t do much for this girl. Brienne might have been able to, but Brienne needed saving herself, this time. Jaime looked at the girl and saw a blanket half way across the room and wondered why the girl hadn’t gone to get it. Then he noticed that she was chained to the cot and the wall. She would never have been able to make her way there. Jaime grabbed the blanket and approached the girl.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Jaime told her gently. He handed her the blanket. She took it and wrapped it around herself, still shaking, whether with cold or fear, Jaime did not know.

“I want to go home.” She said softly.

“You will. My people are here to get everyone out. I’m trying to find my friend. A very tall woman, with blonde hair and blue eyes.” Jaime said gently. The girl shook her head.

“There’s only one other prisoner here. The others are all dead.” The girl said.

“Do you know where this other prisoner might be?” Jaime asked the girl, keeping his voice calm, knowing if he raised his voice and spooked the girl then she would clam up. She was already terrified and Jaime knew this girl was obviously kept for the pleasure of the Mountain’s Men, rather than for interrogation, for she carried no marks of torture. Not that the girl remained uninjured, but Jaime knew that the girl would be far worse off if she had been interrogated. The piece of Brienne’s cheek that had been sent to them was proof of that.

“I hear the screams every day and every night. She must be at the very end of the corridor. I don’t really see much outside this room.” The girl whispered, as though afraid of being heard. Jaime nodded.

“Let me pick the lock on your chains. Can you walk?” Jaime asked the girl. She nodded.

“Yes. They... they took me when I was on holiday with my parents. I don’t know if my parents are alright.” The girl said. “They... they used me... for...” The girl trailed off. Jaime could very well imagine what this girl had been used for.

“What’s your name?” Jaime asked her. The girl blinked and looked at Jaime carefully.

“My name is Pia. Pia Harren.” The girl said. Jaime nodded his understanding and knelt to look at the chains. Jaime picked the locks on the girl’s chains and she stood up, the blanket wrapped around her, her bare feet padded on the floor behind him as he walked, looking for Brienne’s cell, and fearful of what he would find. When he got to the end of the corridor, there was only one door left closed. It was locked, but Jaime would not allow that to deter him. So he picked the lock, but when he opened the door, what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. Someone was hanging, chained by their arms from the ceiling. It was a woman. She wore a bra and panties and nothing else. Her hands were a mangled mess of blood and twisted fingers, and missing fingernails. Her skin was covered in blood and burns, bruises and wounds that looked as though she had been savaged by some kind of animal. Her lips were split, bones were broken, her short hair so matted with blood that Jaime could not tell what the colour of her hair was. She was tall and her face was covered in blood, and a gaping, red maw of a wound, marked half her left cheek. Jaime felt his hands shaking as he finally recognised Brienne. He felt sick at the sight of her broken, injured body. He ran to Brienne’s side, begging her to be alive and was horrified by what she said. It was almost as though she did not believe he was even there.

“Don’t ever say that Brienne! Don’t! Don’t wish yourself dead!” Jaime exclaimed. Brienne looked at him.

“Why not? Anything is better than this living fucking hell. Anything.” Brienne uttered, barely conscious. Jaime began to pick the locks on her chains as he spoke to her.

“Brienne, you’re going to be fine. We’re getting you out of here and then you’re going to go to a hospital, they’re going to fix you up and you’re going to take some fucking time off, and...” Jaime trailed off, not knowing what else to say to her. He was so afraid for her at that moment that he simply didn’t know what to do. Her breath rattled violently, the way it would if she had broken ribs, which she probably did. Or even worse, she might have hypothermia, pneumonia, this place was ice cold and Brienne had been here in nothing but her undergarments for only God knew how long. As Jaime got Brienne loose from the chains, she fell, almost like a stone, her arms draped down Jaime’s back as she fell forward, and Jaime refused to allow her to drop to the ground. “God Brienne, what did they do to you?” Jaime asked softly, but not sure if he truly wanted the answer. He looked around the cell, hoping there was something that he could use to cover Brienne up. There were no blankets in this room. There was nothing Jaime could see to cover Brienne with. He peeled off his jacket and draped it round her shoulders. “We have to get out of here.” Jaime whispered to Brienne. She looked half dead and Jaime knew she needed medical attention desperately. He tried to walk her out of the room, but Brienne was like dead weight. So Jaime did the only thing he could. He picked her up in a fireman’s lift and draped her over his shoulder, carrying her like a sack of potatoes. It wasn’t dignified, it was far from what Jaime wished for her, but if it meant that he got Brienne out of that fucking warehouse, then he didn’t care. Pia followed him as they walked along the corridors and then up the stairs into the warehouse. Jaime heard no more gunshots, no more screaming. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been down there looking for Brienne, but it seemed it was long enough for the Blackfish to take down everyone in the place. Jaime saw Brynden standing there, debriefing some of his men. The Blackfish turned to look at him and looked horrified.

“Get the fucking medical team!” Brynden boomed. The men went scurrying. Brynden walked over and tried to help Jaime, but Jaime refused. He wasn’t letting Brienne go until he knew she was safe with a medical team, safe and out of danger.

“Jaime?” Jaime looked to see Pod and Sansa, Ned’s daughter, with a stretcher and various pieces of equipment they obviously intended to hook Brienne up to there and then, and Jaime almost felt a palpable sense of relief. After all, Pod and Sansa were the best medical team in Winterfell.

 _“She has to be alright.”_ Jaime thought to himself as he laid Brienne down on the stretcher. _“She has to be alright.”_ Jaime thought again as they wheeled her away. All he could do was follow, and pray, for the first time in his life. _“She has to be alright.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know. I ended it there. I'm evil and mean and cruel and everything else. I may possibly do a sequel or prequel or add chapters on to this. It really depends on if anyone wants to see it. LOL! I get the feeling not many people will after all the horrible shit I put Brienne through. Anywho, please comment and let me know what you thought. Any comments are appreciated. (nods)
> 
> ADDED NOTE: Okay most people seem to want a sequel so I'll make this into a series of one shots. I'm writing one RIGHT NOW about things that happened before this story, in the verse timeline. LOL! So it will get posted when I finish it. Which may even be tonight the way I'm going. LOL! Anywho... there will be a sequel which will also be posted, but the next part takes place before the events of this part, and it will be called "On A Hot Tin...... Something?" and I hope it will be enjoyed. It's much lighter than this one. LOL!


End file.
